Berlin, Rome, and Friends
by Shinzu-Shinzoku
Summary: Berlin and Rome, two brothers, never get along. Ever. One is emotionally unstable, the other has temper problems. Their sisters- perfect little angels. Perfect.
1. Chapter 1

Germany thought it was rather odd, waking up to silence. But it was probably because they got home late, and he shrugged it off as that, rolled over, and went back to bed. He had been asleep for half an hour before two girls bound into the room, shaking Germany awake.

"Vati!" the blond hissed. "Vati! Berlin and Rome are fighting again!"

The covers next to him shifted and Italy was sitting, stretching, and yawning. "Ve~? What's wrong?" he asked with a smile.

"Papa!" the brown haired girl said excitedly. Her expression turned grim though, as shouting came from downstairs. "Berlin and Rome are fighting. I'm scared."

Grunting, German forced himself up. "What are they arguing about?" he asked.

"I don't know!" the blond exclaimed. Her twin shook her head. "I- I heard Rome say something like, 'You're a stupid Nazi!' and then Berlin threw something at him and- oh, that lamp is shattered- and they ran around and snapped a chair in half and got Aster all hyped up and Blackie is freaking out and-"

Italy put a finger over her lips. "Sh," he said, rubbing an eye. "Slow down Dusseldorf. Venice, do you have anything to say?"

The girl shook her head, the curl at the back of her head waving slightly. "I'm scared."

Germany pulled Dusseldorf and set her on the bed, then set Venice next to her. "I'll-" he looked at Italy- "we'll be right back. Okay?"

"Okay!" the girls chimed.

Rubbing his face, Germany led Italy downstairs, where curses in both German and Italian were being shouted out. On instinct, Germany took a step back, but Italy did not, and he was nailed in the head with a tomato.

"Hey!" Italy said, putting on a fake pout. "Ah! Prussia?"

Germany's gaze instantly shot to his older brother, who was desperately trying to hold Rome back. The small boy was failing, waving a spatula up and down, his amber eyes ablaze with anger.

"Lasciami andare! Lasciami andare!" Rome was exclaiming. Prussia bared his teeth when the spatula hit him in the face, and out of anger he dropped Rome on the ground.

"Stinking brat!" Prussia exclaimed. He lunged for Rome, grabbed his wrist, and jerked back, pulling him high into the air. "What the hell was that for, eh? Leave Berlin alone for God's sake!"

"Stupid Nazi!" Rome exclaimed, pointing to Berlin. The blond in question got a shocked look and threw another tomato.

"I'm not a Nazi you stupid Italian!" Berlin exclaimed, slamming his gloved hands down on the table. Like his father, Berlin was always in uniform before leaving his room in the morning. But now, it was covered in tomato, milk, cereal, and shattered pieces of glass were found in his messy hair. Even his glasses had a crack through one of the lenses.

Italy clapped his hands. "Bambini! Why are you fighting like this?"

Berlin almost colapsed, gripping onto the end of the table. "He keeps saying..." he took shallow breaths, weak from running around the house for so long. "I told him...that his pasta was disgusting. His pasta, his pizza, everything!"

"It is not you stupid Nazi!" Rome exclaimed. Prussia grasped the boy's hands and held them still, the spatula mark hardly disappearing from his cheek. "My pasta is amazing and you know it!"

"Your fighting over pasta?" Germany asked, rubbing his temples.

Prussia shook his head. "I walked in here and they were arguing about who was better," he said. "It was like a combination of both- whose culture was better, whose cities were better, food, everything like that! That is SO not awesome!"

A sad look crossed Italy's face. "Oh dear," he mumbled. Everyone knew the brothers didn't get along in the slightest; one wrong word set them off, and this had to be the worst the men had ever seen it. "Come here Rome."

With a shrug Prussia dropped the boy again. Rome ran over to Italy, hugging him tightly.

"My pasta's not bad," he mumbled, tears forming. Italy grabbed Rome's hand and led him away, while Berlin kept a straight face.

The moment the two Italians had left, Berlin broke down sobbing. He dropped to the floor, leaning against the table leg, hands covering his face. He didn't move when Germany and Prussia knelt down beside him, and ingored them when they tried to talk.

"Berlin- hey, listen to me!"

His hands didn't move. Germany rubbed the boy's back, eyebrows furrowed. He looked to Prussia, but his brother shrugged and shook his head, mouthing, 'I don't know!'

Suddenly, as Germany was about to stand up, Berlin reached over and hugged him tight, burrying his face into Germany's soft shirt.

"Why does he keep calling me that?" he asked, voice muffled. Germany sighed and began to pick glass out of Berlin's hair.

"I don't-"

"I wasn't even alive!" Berlin exclaimed. He hugged Germany tighter, feeling Prussia's hand on his shoulder.

"Of course not! You're only, what, 14?" Prussia asked. He sighed. "I'll be right back."

Germany slowly pulled Berlin away. The boy's face and eyes were red, and he kept rubbing his nose and the corners of his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry," Berlin mumbled. He rubbed his eyes and walked away, an aura of dejectedness surrounding him. "I'm sorry, Vati."

"You don't have to be."

Shocked, Berlin turned. He'd always learned to be strong, keep emotions in check...

"Even I do not agree with what Rome had said," Germany said.

"Papa?"

The blonds jumped when Venice came skipping down the stairs, the bow in her hair billowing out softly. Berlin, seeing the Italian girl, took steps back, biting his bottom lip.

"What is it?" Germany asked.

"Where's Rome?"

"Right here," came a grumbling voice. Italy had Rome's hand and was walking back into the room. His golden eyes were narrowed, and he glared at Berlin as he walked by. "What do you want?"

Venice frowned. "Um...er...nothing," she said quietly, scurrying away.

Italy gestured for Germany and Berlin to follow him and the four walked into the living room, sitting on the couch. Berlin was sitting in a chair, arms crossed, gaze directed away from them.

He was the first one to speak. "I'm not a Nazi, you stupid Italian."

Rome was silent.

"Come on, boys, play nice," Italy said, desperately trying to calm them. "We can't have you destroying each other at six in the morning!"

"Stupid Nazi woke me up," Rome hissed.

"I did not!" Berlin exclaimed. "Stop calling me that!" He rubbed his eyes again. "I hate being called that!" He was trying not to cry again, but when he felt tears fall down his face, he let out a sob. Rome's narrowed eyes and deep frown turned into wide, shocked eyes and his mouth slightly open.

Rome stood up. "Why are you crying you stupid Nazi?" he exclaimed. "Stop it!" He was rubbing his eyes now.

"Guys, stop fighting and sit down!" Germany snapped. Rome spun around.

"Nein!" he exclaimed. Germany jerked back, never before hearing his son speaking anything other than Italian. Italy grabbed Germany's hand. "Warum ist er zu weinen, eh?"

Berlin choked back another sob and looked away. Rome was going crazy, he though, switching between German, Italian, and English.

"Why?" Rome asked. "Why are you crying?" He rubbed tears away from his face.

"I'm not a Nazi," Berlin squeaked. Rome punched him in the arm rather weakly.

"You never were," Rome said. "You never were. I don't know what to say. Stop staring at me, you stupid Nazi!"

Germany looked at Italy. It seemed as if Rome had been bestowed with Romano's temper. Before it got any worse, Germany stood up.

"Boys, stop it," he said. "Rome, go with Italy and change your clothes. Berlin, come with me and we'll find you a clean uniform and get the glass out of your hair."

Biting his bottom lip, Berlin stood up and followed, grabbing Germany's hand. He looked back at Rome, who was staring at him, not even trying to stop the tears.

* * *

><p><strong><em><span>Shinzu<span>_**: I was in an angsty mood. xI So. Drabbles...maybe some two or three part stories...whatever.

I've tried like 7 times to write a chapter to start my story. Hm. Yeah. This is the best I've come up with. Rome is a jerk. He started as a friendly little moron, but then I typed him really mean...and I loved it. He's like Romano. There'll be other families here, too~ Hence 'and Friends' in the title.

Enjoy~


	2. Chapter 2

There was a do not disturb sign on Berlin's door. Never before had the boy been so secretive, so quiet about what he was doing. He had been this way for about a week now, rarely ever leaving his room; and when he did, he stayed outside for a few minutes and instantly disappeared back in. Rome was being spiteful again, talking about how Berlin was lazy, weak, hiding himself because he finally figured it out.

But Italy knew something was wrong. He was carrying a basket of laundry down the hall when he heard something coming from the boy's room. Raising an eyebrow, Italy walked over and knocked.

"Berlin, are you okay?" he asked.

"Erm...ja! Ja, alles gut!"

The boy probably didn't want to talk. Italy would just come back later, after he put the laundry away. He was walking back past the door, thinking about what to make for dinner. Should he make pizza or sandwiches? It was so hard for him to figure it out, and his train of thought was destroyed as he walked by his eldest son's door again.

"N-nein! Seiz dich! Seiz dich!"

The hell?

"Berlin?" Italy knocked again, wondering what the boy was screaming. "Berlin, please open the door!"

"Okay!"

The door swung open and there was a disheveled, tired Berlin brushing his floppy hair back with a hand.

"Ja?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What are you doing in there?" Italy asked, trying to push past Berlin. The younger boy tried to push his papa out of the room, closing and locking the door behind himself. Italy knocked on the door a few times, but was met with silence.

Okay, now he _really _wanted to know what the boy was doing. And in order to get to someone as stubborn as Berlin, he needed to go to someone stubborn; Germany.

Said man was in the backyard, reading a book and watching his dogs play in the grass.

"Hey, Germany~" Italy said, coming up to him. "Will you help me with something? Berlin is doing something really weird and when I went to see what it was he kicked me out of his room. Literally!"

"What was he doing?" Germany asked, looking up.

"Saying something like...Sei...Seiz-"

Instantly the dogs stopped playing and sat down in a straight line, staring silently. The two nations stared back.

"Something doesn't seem right," Germany said. "He was saying 'seiz dich'?"

"Yeah!" Italy exclaimed, frowning. The dogs barked.

"There's an animal in his room." Germany closed his book and stood up, waving his hands. The dogs howled and battered each others heads like a ram.

This time, the knocking on Berlin's door was loud- that's just how Germany was- and once again the door came open, revealing the face of Berlin. Germany shoved open the door and walked in, Italy right behind him. Italy felt bad now; he should have just dealt with this on his own. What parent couldn't get into his own child's room!

Both stopped dead in their tracks. Berlin was standing against a wall, biting his bottom lip, his hands at his sides and clasped.

"Is that...?" Italy's face suddenly lit up. "A POODLE!" He dropped to his knees in front of the animal, holding his hand out. The black spotted white dog tipped its head to the side and sniffed it, suddenly licking his hand once and then jumping on Italy. "My gosh, it's adorable! Berlin, why did you hide it?"

"I hid him because you would have told Vati...and Vati would have refused to let me keep him."

Germany scowled. "You could not have kept him in here forever."

"I...I know, Vati, I know..." Berlin looked away, his eyes watering. He thought he wouldn't be able to keep the dog.

The tall man knelt down and held his hand out like Italy did, surprised when the dog merely licked the tips of his fingers. "Where did you find him?"

"Ich weiss nicht, Vatiiii," Berlin complained. Italy knew that phrase all too well. "Berlitz and Aster brought him to me and I just couldn't say no. I think he was abandoned." He picked up the dog and held him, almost too small to hold it any longer. It looked to be at least three months old.

"How have you been taking care of him?" Italy asked.

Berlin moved a bowl out from behind a stack of books- dog food and water. "And I...er...jump through the window to take him on walks and stuff and..." He kicked over a basket full of balls that the puppy absolutely went crazy for. He leaped out of his owner's arms and chased one that Italy threw, barking loudly when it bounced back and hit his nose.

Italy smiled and cuddled the puppy to his chest. "He's so cute! Berlin, what did you name him?"

"Marti. But he doesn't respond to well. I guess he...doesn't need to now."

Germany shook his head. "No," he said. "_Kommt heir, Marti_."

Slowly the dog untangled itself from Italy's arms and trotted over, tipping his head to the side.

"You need to be gentle with them," Germany said, petting the dog's head. Italy grinned. "Does he have a bed?"

Berlin pointed with his thumb to the corner of the room where he had an old, never used blanket in a heap with a few pillows he apparently got from a cheap store.

"Carino!" Italy exclaimed, smiling. "Germany, can he keep him?"

There seemed to be a lot of thought going on. Berlin looked as if he knew the answer and had to hold back, staring blankly and blinking quite a bit to stop his tears.

Marti barked, sticking outs his tongue. Germany flicked one of his floppy ears.

"I guess," he said.

Berlin seemed to just light up. He nearly tackled Germany over in excitement, grinning more than he ever had his entire life.

"Danke sehr!" he exclaimed.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Shinzu<strong>_: Face it. We've all tried to hide that one animal in our room. I tried to keep a spider.

It died ten minutes later.

ANYWAY, there's an abundance of German in here. -_-' Sorry, I don't speak Italian. I'm learning German. Translation? FINNNE.

"...ja! Ja, alles gut!" - Yes! Yes, all good!  
>"N-nein! Seiz dich! Seiz dich!" -No! Sit down! Sit down! (Not sure about that one, actually...I had to look it up)<br>"Ich weiss nicht, Vatiiii," -I don't know, daaaaadd,  
>"<em>Kommt heir, Marti<em>." -Come here, Marti.  
>(Italian) "Carino!" -Cute!<br>"Danke sehr!" -Thank you so much!

;3; I hate dogs, but I luv poodles. My grandma breeds poodles, and she told me that they came from Germany (never looked that up, though). Marti is a parti, based off of my uncle's poodle (by the same name). POODLES ARE HUGE GAIZ LIKE HUGE.

Kthnxbye.


	3. Brief Interlude From Our friend Potsdam

Pft, who needs those guys, huh? I'm cooler than all of them together-

"No your not."

"Quiet." Anyway, I'm cooler than all of them together! I'm freaking-

"You are NOT awesome."

"_Mein Gott_will you SHUT UP!"

There was a quiet, rascal like giggling. I glared at the little boy with light brown hair and red eyes.

"You're not as awesome as me only because you're not a real capital."

"Budapest...I'm going to STRANGLE you."

The boy got a terrified look, his red eyes large and terrified. He took his large stuffed bear and went running, leaving me to laugh. Oh how he got so terrified!

Anyway, I'm Potsdam, and somehow my father is Prussia..._somehow_. Crazy gods, ja? Wahahah-

"You're a jerk!" exclaimed Budapest, poking his head around the corner. I grabbed the first thing near me- oh, hey, a cake pan!- and chucked it. My dog barked from its bed in the corner of the kitchen, it's voice sounding almost like a laugh. Budapest squealed and hid behind the wall, but it wouldn't have hit him anyway; I hate to say it, but the awesome me has a crappy aim.

"Are you guys fighting again!"

My eyes grew wide. Oh crap. My mom was coming downstairs. Where to hide where to- the dog! I leaped across the table and ducked down behind him, shooing his gaze away when he turned to look at me.

Hungary was standing there, hands on her hips, looking around. She was getting ready to travel to Austria for a few weeks and had her uniform on- oh crap. I was supposed to go with her.

"Fritz, your eyes don't blend to well in brown fur. Neither does your hair- which is white."

I cursed, standing up.

"Why aren't you ready?"

I grinned. "I'm telling the wonderful readers how awesome I am-"

"No."

With that she took me by the ear, dragging me up the stairs.

"I'LL BE BACK!"

"Prussia, talk to your damn son! He's talking to imaginary people again!"

I flailed. "Aiyyaaaaaa, _Anyaaa_! Wah- I'LL SEE YOU GUYS AGAIN AT AUSTRIA'S!"

* * *

><p><strong><em><span>Shinzu<span>_**: I don't. Effing. Know. Potsdam was sitting in the corner of my mind as I was going through my lineup of capitals. He was like, ';A; AIYAAA CHOOSE ME CHOOSE MEEEE' and flailing around like an idiot. Not a yaoi couple, his parents, but it's one of my favorites. u.u It might be random, but it does have a purpose.

I can hardly throw in German, let alone Hungarian, so, yeah. xD Anya's all ya' get.

Potsdam - Fritz  
>Budapest- Miska<p> 


End file.
